In Media Nocte
by Paris in December
Summary: Over the years, Severus has more than one encounter at three in the morning. Written for the HPFC Three AM Challenge. Warnings: het, slash, samegen, crossgen, semi-noncon. Chapters: 8/8. Demons' Redemption series.
1. October 1975: Lily

**Author's Note: **Written for the Three AM Challenge by Macceh on the HPFC forum.

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October 13, 1975

_3:24 AM_

It's late – early? – but Severus can't sleep – hasn't slept all weekend. Lily – beloved Lily, lovely Lily – is in the hospital wing – broken collarbone, Potter's fault. Or maybe Black's. Hard to tell the difference sometimes.

"Sev, what are you doing here?"

Startled, Severus realizes that his brain is not caught up to his body. Evidently he made the decision to visit Lily some time ago – ten, twenty minutes, maybe longer – he's not sure how long it took to get here.

"_Severus._"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Severus pauses, flushes faintly – hopefully that's not visible in the dim infirmary. "I thought you were asleep."

Lily grimaces and indicates her collarbone with a hand – she's not supposed to move her head, Severus remembers – or not much – just a precaution. "It still hurts, a bit. _You_ should be asleep."

"Couldn't sleep."

"We have classes tomorrow," says Lily severely. She frowns – checks her watch. "Today. It's three in the morning, Sev. You're going to be completely dead in Transfiguration and _I_ can't take notes."

Severus shakes his head. "I'll be fine." Not like he'd be sleeping anyway – not with Lily here – he'd rather stay in the hospital wing with her, really. Maybe he should just – there's a free bed next to her – he could sleep here instead.

"Go back to bed, Severus."

Her eyes, they're so green, almost glowing in the dark. He doesn't want to get up – feels like he's fused to the chair.

"Sev? Oh, don't sleep there, it's terrible for your back. You should really go back to the Slytherin dormitory. Sev?"

_Too late_, Severus thinks as his eyelids droop involuntarily.


	2. April 1978: Regulus

_April 22, 1978_

_3:02 AM_

Severus isn't completely awake, but hormones are raging. Maybe it's because Avery had a girl over earlier – not a very attractive one – Severus doesn't even remember her name. Anyway, he's not going to take care of it himself – not when he has an alternative.

"Regs. Reg, wake up."

"Nngh," says Regulus. He rolls over and squints up at Severus. "Whaddayawant?"

"Move over."

Regulus, less awake than Severus, obeys without thinking – something he has a lot of practice in. Then, sitting up – "What are you doing here? This isn't your dorm."

"Obviously. Strip," Severus orders.

"_Now?_ It's what, three in the morning?"

Severus just glares at him. "Yes, now. Strip."

He pulls off his own nightclothes as Regulus obliges – grumbling, but without heart. Severus leaves in less than two months – not enough time to do all the things he'd like with Regulus – but he can't stick around.

"You all right, Severus?"

Severus presses the heel of his hand against his forehead. Not thinking straight – maybe Regulus is right, and three in the morning isn't the best time for this. "Fine. Are they all asleep?"

"Of course." Now fully naked, Regulus stretches out on the bed, kicking the covers aside to give Severus better access. "You coming, or not?"

"That is not funny even at this time of night." Severus climbs onto the bed and settles himself on top of the other boy. "Time to shut up."

"Whatever you say, Sev – _nngh_!"


	3. May 1979: Narcissa

_May 30, 1979_

_3:16 AM_

"Severus?"

Severus jolts awake – "Hm?" – his back is aching like the _devil_ – where the hell is he?

"You do realize we have a guest room?" says Narcissa, her voice gently teasing.

Severus blinks the sleep away from his eyes and tries to focus on the woman sitting next to him. Malfoy Manor – obviously, he's only been staying here for a month, hasn't he? – he seems to have fallen asleep in the sitting room. In an armchair. In a very uncomfortable position.

"Mm. Yes. I was… reading," he mutters, clawing at the arms of the chair until he's sitting upright. The book on his lap tumbles to the floor. "'t time is it?"

"Around three." Narcissa reaches out as if to smooth his hair – pulls her hand back before she can touch him. Severus squints at her, confused – looks around for Lucius, but Narcissa's husband is nowhere to be seen.

"Is everything all right, Narcissa?" he asks, trying to sound more awake than he is.

Narcissa shakes her head. Severus notices that her hands are twisting in her lap – he touches them, to still them, but her fingers feel stiff and cold, and she doesn't respond to the touch as she usually would.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers.

Severus yanks his hand away.

"You – what – _tell me it's not mine!_" It comes out sharper than is probably wise, but Lucius doesn't know about them – and Severus doesn't want him to.

"I don't know," says Narcissa miserably. "It could be. But it could just as easily be Lucius's child. We… we'll just have to wait until it comes…"

Severus kicks the book aside – it belongs to Narcissa – and stands up, brushing at his robes. "You told me you were using protection," he snarls.

"Lucius was pressuring me. He wants a son so badly. Severus, please!" Narcissa begs, but he's already walking out the door, three in the morning or not.

Severus can't afford a child – not now, not as an unattached Death Eater, and certainly not with a married woman.


	4. December 1980: Lucius

**Author's Note:** Shoutout to Elensule and Macceh for the reviews! Warning: This is the semi-noncon chapter. It's not immediately obvious, but it is the basis of this relationship.

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December 25, 1980

_3:37 AM_

It's late – early? – but Severus can't sleep. That's not to say he isn't tired – his brain isn't really functioning – and he feels _exhausted_ – but for some reason, when he lies down, sleep evades him.

When the door bangs open, startling him, he realizes that he's been expecting this. He never believed Lucius would let him off just because it's Christmas – and he's never celebrated Christmas anyway.

"Severus." Lucius's voice is sinuous, sensual – would be attractive, if Severus had any say in the matter.

"Lucius," Severus responds, aware that he looks and sounds as though he's been up for days. It's probably true. "How is Draco?"

"Exactly as is to be expected for a ten-month-old child." Lucius waves a hand dismissively. "I have no interest in the affairs of babies. When he starts developing intelligent thought, then I will participate in his care."

If Severus were a father – not that he'll ever be, the thought is ludicrous – him, a father? He's a Death Eater and a Dark wizard and a spy – he would believe that fatherhood ought to start with the birth of the child. He'll never say that to Lucius, of course. "This will be his first Christmas." Ah – he hadn't meant to bring up Christmas.

Lucius smiles thinly and lowers himself onto the arm of Severus's chair. "Yes, it is Christmas, isn't it?"

"Three in the morning on Christmas," Severus grumbles. "It couldn't have waited, I suppose."

"You clearly haven't been sleeping anyway."

Severus only grunts in response to that – just because it's obvious doesn't mean he wants to admit it.

Lucius reaches down and trails a finger along Severus's jaw. "Come, Severus, don't be difficult."

"Just get on with it."

"Very well." Lucius's hand slides down Severus's throat and along his chest, caressing sensuously, while his other hand works at the buttons of Severus's robe.

Severus sighs and leans his head back, trying not to think about what he's gotten himself into.


	5. September 1982: Minerva

**Author's Note:** This chapter and the next one are non-romantic.

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September 10, 1982

_3:09 AM_

When Severus was younger, he used to daydream about being a professor – being able to take points away or give detentions – teaching Potions _properly_, unlike that moron Slughorn. Daydreams, however, are far from the reality.

A knock on the door brings him back to the present – he finds himself with his face plastered to the desk in his office and ink all over his hands. A few cleansing charms are in order before he responds to the knock. "Come in."

It's Professor McGonagall – Minerva. Severus gazes at her through bleary eyes.

"I thought you might still be up," she says, sitting without invitation in the room's single unoccupied chair. "I remember my first September. It's a great deal more work than you realize."

"I should be used to it by now," Severus mutters. "I started teaching in January."

McGonagall – Minerva shakes her head. Why is he still having trouble remembering to call her by her first name? "The beginning of the year is different. Oh, I know, you had exams in June, but you had a great deal more time to grade them when you weren't in the middle of teaching classes as well."

"It's like being a student all over again. I don't know why I agreed to this job." Severus's eyelids are drooping – he's fighting to keep them open.

Minerva notices. "You should go to bed. It's three in the morning! Anything you try to grade now will be very poorly considered."

Severus grunts and rubs at his eyes. "Yet if I don't grade these essays now, I won't be able to hand them back tomorrow."

"So don't. The students won't mind." Minerva gives a wry smile. "In fact, they would prefer never to see their essays again." When Severus hesitates, she urges, "Go to bed, Severus. The essays can wait for the weekend, when you have more time."

He shouldn't – but it's so tempting – he can barely keep his eyes open. Minerva's form wavers in front of him – his eyes drift in and out of focus. Best to get up before he falls asleep on his desk, really.

Severus gets up from his chair and stumbles toward his quarters as Minerva chuckles and exits his office, locking the door behind her. He should probably check the wards – but what student will try to get in at three in the morning on a Friday?


	6. March 1993: Draco

_March 1, 1993_

_3:28 AM_

Severus is awakened by an insistent pounding at his door. He is _in bed_ – he was _asleep_ – and what time is it? – but still someone wants to see him. Stalking to the door, he yanks it open – and is faced with Draco Malfoy. Recently turned thirteen – probably the only student in the school who has cared to find Severus's quarters – Severus should have expected this, but his brain isn't quite functional at this hour.

"Draco." He glowers at the child. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this _very_ early visit?"

Draco swallows, and Severus notices that his cheeks are streaked with tears – something not frequently seen on his face. "I'm sorry, sir. I just – I had a nightmare, and…" He bites his lip and looks away.

Severus sighs. Draco is not his child, but he's always felt obliged to take care of him nonetheless. Narcissa – fortunately – is blissfully oblivious to the real reason, which is to keep Lucius off his back. "Very well. Come in and sit down."

He directs Draco to a chair and steps out of the room to call a house-elf for some water – he doesn't think anything more substantial is appropriate at _three in the morning_ – all the while thinking how much he doesn't want to deal with the nightmares of a young boy. Damn Malfoys and their pampering.

When the glass of water appears, Severus picks it up and carries it back to Draco. "Drink," he orders.

Draco obligingly takes a sip, but he makes a face. "Mother usually gives me hot chocolate."

"I am not your mother," says Severus, keeping his expression neutral – mustn't let on how much he despises playing nursemaid. "It is far too early for sugar."

There is a moment of awkward silence.

"Do you wish to discuss the nightmare?" Severus says stiffly.

Draco shakes his head. "Not really… I mean… it was just about You-Know-Who coming back and making Father do horrible things."

Severus bites back the comment that Lucius did most of those horrible things willingly. "Indeed."

"Sorry to bother you, Professor Snape… thank you for the water," Draco mutters, and he hurries out of the room, leaving a half-empty water glass behind. Severus Vanishes it and returns to his bed, falling asleep again almost immediately.


	7. February 1997: Hermione

_February 12, 1997_

_3:31 AM_

Severus has classes to teach tomorrow, but he has yet to go to bed – too many potions to brew in too little time. There are five cauldrons bubbling in various parts of the lab – make that six, since Hermione Granger has taken the opportunity to work on something of her own – he won't ask what it is. Anyway, if he can just sneak over there he can _see_ what it is.

Unfortunately, sneaking would take more concentration than he currently has available – he was up late last night too – though perhaps not quite _this_ late.

"Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor?" She sounds much more awake than he is.

"What time is it?" Severus sweeps over to one of his cauldrons – the one nearest to Hermione's – to check the consistency.

"Around three in the morning, I think." Hermione frowns into her potion. "I don't think this is right. Damn it… _Evanesco!_"

Severus raises an eyebrow – so much for being able to see what that potion was.

"Experimenting, are we?" he says. "Perhaps now you can get back to the work you're _supposed_ to be doing."

Hermione glares at him, but she's been spending enough time with him lately that she can tell when he's genuinely annoyed and when he's just being nasty for the hell of it – so she moves to a different cauldron without comment. On the way, she glances into the one he's currently stirring.

"That isn't one Professor Dumbledore asked for."

"I am a spy, Miss Granger. Professor Dumbledore isn't the only person employing me for my potion-making abilities," says Severus coldly.

Hermione stops in her tracks and looks up at him. A strand of hair falls in front of her face, but she doesn't seem to notice – and Severus is struck with the odd urge to brush it away. He's definitely been spending too much time with her.

"I'm sorry," she says after a long moment of silent staring.

Severus grunts and turns back to his potion – but inwardly he feels a little bit warmer at the knowledge that one person, at least, knows what this is costing him.


	8. June 1998: Harry

**Author's Note:** It didn't really turn out to include anything M-rated, but I'm going to leave the rating where it is because of the implications in Severus's relationship with Lucius.

This story is now complete. I know it's just showing tidbits, but at some point I do expect to write a more comprehensive story about how things developed the way they did (just as soon as I figure it out myself!).

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June 1, 1998

_3:13 AM_

Severus wakes when a cold nose is pressed against the base of his neck. He mumbles something that's incoherent even to him and pushes Harry's face away.

"G'roff." There, that sounded more like words – though not by much.

"Ow!" Harry sits up, rubbing his face. "What was that for?"

"Cold."

Harry wraps his fingers around Severus's hand – _cold_ – and squeezes, a little harder than necessary. "You're usually more articulate when I wake you up."

"Nngh." Pretty sure that wasn't a word – oh well.

The brat has the audacity to laugh. "One-syllable responses it is. Though I'm not sure that last one qualifies as a syllable. I didn't hear any vowels."

Severus struggles to come up with a biting response – but the best he can do is, "Brat."

"All right, all right, I'll stop teasing." Harry pulls out his wand and mutters something under his breath. When he places his hand against Severus's hair, it's warm – much better – Severus burrows his head into the pillow.

He's almost asleep again when Harry speaks.

"Did you really have an affair with Hermione?"

Even with his brainpower limited by exhaustion, Severus recognizes that this is not a question to dismiss lightly. He raises his head from the pillow and cracks his eyes open again. "Hm?"

"Hermione. She said you were… together, for a while. Last year." Harry leans on his elbow, resting it against the pillow right next to Severus's head. "Is it true?"

Severus rubs his eyes and tries for a full sentence. "Do you really think three in the morning is the appropriate time to be discussing this?"

"Is it really that late?" Harry looks around at the clock on Severus's dresser. "Oh. Well, we don't normally see each other except at night, you know."

"I am aware of that, yes."

"Except for Potions class, of course, but that's different –"

"_Harry_."

Harry sighs and flops back against the pillow. "It can wait, if you want. It's just been bothering me all day, and I thought…"

He's cut off as Severus places a hand over his mouth. "The answer to your question is yes, I did. The answer to your other, unspoken question is no, I do not."

Harry pushes his hand away. "What's my unspoken question?"

"Whether or not I still have feelings for her." Severus touches a finger to Harry's lips when he seems about to speak again. "Hush. I never really had feelings for her in the first place. We were just spending a lot of time together, and it went a bit further than potions."

"That doesn't sound like Hermione."

"No one is perfect – least of all me." Severus is fully awake by now, wanting to give his full attention to the issue at hand. Harry is unusually sensitive and likely to take things the wrong way if Severus doesn't explain himself thoroughly. "She was lonely, and so was I. You weren't part of the picture at that point. I assure you, it wouldn't have happened if you were."

Harry is silent for a moment. "So it's over?"

"Of course it's over, foolish brat. Now, may I go back to sleep?"

Severus closes his eyes and allows himself a small smile as Harry rearranges himself on the bed so that he's curled up against Severus's chest. Crisis averted.


End file.
